stay awake
by scribbleddreaming
Summary: Sarah was the dream; Herbert had only been the distraction. And he should have been wise enough to not believe that Alfred would ever stay. In the end, people leave. They always leave.
1. Chapter 1

Now, this is a story I randomly decided to write at 2 am and am now considering turning into a 3 or 4 parter. Definitely angsty. If you find mistakes, well, I'm German, so I'll take no responsibility lol

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Herbert should have known it couldn't last.

He was too old to still be this naive, he realized; to still believe that people will stay if you just care enough, if you love them enough, give them enough little pieces of your soul to cherish until you're empty and exposed. He was an utter fool for ever believing anything would be different. In the end, they always leave.

He had just held onto hope so long, thought that maybe, after the time that had transpired and the things that they had shared, Alfred would actually want to stay if given the choice; that he might hesitate or look back and realize that he wants to be with Herbert more than with that dream of having a happy life with that little brat Sarah.

Herbert wanted to laugh at his own idiocy, but the bitter sound got stuck in his throat. He had known better, he really had. When Alfred first started sneaking into Herbert's coffin and curling his fingers into the satin nightshirt, Herbert was wise enough to not concoct any silly illusions that these are the budding blossoms of love in Alfred's heart. He had known it was loneliness, neediness, longing for comfort Alfred knew Herbert was willing to provide. When Alfred started caressing Herbert's spine with his soft hands, licking cold skin and making it feel warm, moaning meaningless words into his mouth, it was hard to stay strong, but Herbert knew; this is temporary, a fleeting moment of bliss before inevitable reality would crash down on both of them. But when Alfred started smiling gently at him for no reason, kissing the corner of his mouth before falling asleep, laying his hand on top of Herbert's still heart as if he could feel it beat, that's when Herbert lost control of himself. He had fallen so madly and hopelessly in love with that maddeningly addicting boy he had completely forgotten what had driven Alfred to the castle in the first place: Sarah, who had left as soon as she had turned Alfred.

And when she came back to the castle, looking like a matured woman while still being a child, Herbert had felt this little illusion, this slice of fantastical escapism that had lulled him in, shatter around him like glass walls. He had avoided both of them immediately, kept silent at the awkward dinner between the castle's patrons and excused himself as soon as possible. He could feel everyone's looks on him etched into his skin, but he could not care less. Herbert wanted to stave off goodbye as much as he could, for he had already known the second she had walked through the door that he had lost. Well, how could he have ever had a chance of winning against the person that Alfred had been secretly wishing for? Sarah was the dream; Herbert was just the distraction.

While looking out of his window into the dark night, watching Sarah and Alfred load their things into a carriage, he tried his best to blink away the tears threatening to spill out. Herbert was not usually one to hold back tears, unlike many others he saw no weakness in crying, but he knew that he had to be stone to get through this. Rarely had he loved so adamantly as he had loved Alfred and the only way to withstand bidding farewell to the man he could never have is if he stayed cold.

He heard the door creaking open and could immediately sense his father entering the room. Herbert did not turn to him, embarrassed to face his wise father who had probably known this was going to happen and had now come to scold him for giving into his emotions. For a while, the Count was silent, waiting for Herbert to say something, but Herbert kept staring out into the dark, as if it changed anything about the situation to be stoic.

„I hoped he would stay, for your sake."

That's all his father said, voice filled with regret and pity. Herbert bit down on his lip as hard as he could, drawing blood, willing himself to be granite, be impervious to the pain that was threatening to burst out of his chest. He heard his father sigh quietly and turn away, and then only heard the click of the door. Alone again. Alone as always.

Herbert just kept watching Sarah fakely fuss over Alfred, she must have realized that traveling alone without a lapdog was too tedious, while Alfred solemnly heaved baggage into the little carriage the Count had granted them. His father didn't seem to mind too much; in the end, Sarah had just been a toy for him, as Alfred was for her. How unfair it seemed that the one person with real feelings for a person in this got screwed over so royally.

Herbert hated himself for ever letting himself go, for letting Alfred into his heart, into his mind, into his soul, letting Alfred inhabit every little inch of his being to the point that getting rid of him seemed absolutely out of the realm of possibility, although it had to be done. He let out a shuddering sigh. _What a pathetic fool I am._

All of a sudden, Alfred turns away from his task at hand and looks around, left and right until finally looking up, meeting Herbert's gaze. Immediately, Herbert's eyes hardened, or at least he hoped that they did, because everything in him wanted to run down and beg Alfred not to go. He thought he could detect something in Alfred's eyes; regret? guilt? pain? He wasn't sure. He could see Alfred breathe heavily and for a few eternities, they just stared at each other, as if they could communicate that way. But, no, Herbert couldn't understand what Alfred was trying to say to him wordlessly, and Herbert had to remain a statue, lest he embarrass himself further than he already has.

Sarah grabbed his arm and ripped him away from that momentary little world they had shared and Alfred finally turned away. Herbert wished he could do the same. It's as if his treacherous heart wanted to soak in every second it could of still seeing Alfred before losing him forever. And now, they finally started boarding the carriage, ready to set off into a new world for both of them and Herbert wished he could burn it all down until it's nothing more than rubble and ashes. Alfred glanced one more time at Herbert before sticking his head back into the carriage that would take them away. He could hear the horses' hooves click away on the ground and before he could realize it, they were already gone.

Herbert suddenly felt empty, like he had been carved out from the inside and all that was left of him was the shell. There was still that voice in his head saying he might return, he might realize that you're the one, he might realize he's in love. But Herbert could not let himself fall for such idiocies anymore. Love, truly devoted love, was something that somehow seemed to be denied to him, and if that was the way it was going to be, he'd have to accept it.

People leave. They always leave.


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred did not miss the gloomy castle that had been his first haven as a vampire. The dark stone walls were imposing, emanating cold and inspiring dread in him. He had often felt like a prisoner, even though he knew he was free to leave whenever he wanted. Once he could see the castle disappear from his sight, bit by bit, he felt liberated of its depressing clutches, excited for all the sights he would see with Sarah by his side.

Finally, he had what he had dreamed of ever since he had laid eyes on her in Transylvania, albeit under different circumstances. Sarah was finally with him and they were going to explore the world together; what did it matter that they would have to cover themselves in the night? They were together.

But over the several weeks and months they spent together, that beautiful illusion Alfred had preserved in the deepest corner of his mind started to crack at the edges. Sarah was not the sweet, innocent girl he had thought her to be; she was a ruthless killer, picking her prey with calculation and killing them mercilessly. She scoffed at Alfred's restraint, saying that they were vampires and therefore allowed to take what they will. She could be incredibly cold and distant, treating Alfred like a stranger, a nuisance, someone you barely tolerate. And the more time went on, Alfred realized that they really were strangers. They had never known each other, not even good enough to be close friends, let alone the soul mates Alfred had believed they were. He was only a companion to while away the time and loneliness she felt once in a while and that is a realization that pained Alfred immensely. He felt like a sleepwalker being roughly awakened from a deep slumber by a punch in the stomach; he had been a complete fool for not immediately seeing the real state of things between them when she had abandoned him in the woods after killing him.

„Why do you look so glum?", Sarah emerged from the bathroom of the little bedroom they shared, primped for a night of hunting and she looked at him sitting on the old bed. Alfred just looked at her soberly, saw the woman she was becoming, a woman he had never seen before in her. He had only seen the pretty girl with the sponge in hand, smiling sweetly at him and he wished so dearly that she had been exactly like he had kept her alive in his head. He sighed quietly and looked away to the floor, hands wringing almost to the point of pain. She huffed indignantly. „Fine, be that way. You know, you would be half as miserable if you finally stopped brooding all the time", was all she said before returning to her beauty routine.

Alfred stayed silent, waiting for her to finish and leave. That's all he hoped for lately, to see as little of her as he possibly could in the limited space they shared. Whenever he looked at her, he could only see his foolishness and failings reflected back to him, mocking him for being the worthless little boy he still was, daydreaming and deluding himself with some perfect little world that could never be reality.

Before he could realize, Sarah had already left their hotel room to roam the streets of the big German city they had randomly chosen as their next target. They had already visited many of the biggest cities of Europe; Paris, London, Vienna, Berlin, so many countless cities and countrysides that Alfred had lost track. The only way they could finance their living is by stealing from their victims and Sarah always managed to lure the most lucrative prey to keep them afloat. They kept running wherever they could, running and running without any aim and Alfred felt restless. He almost missed the security of the castle in Transylvania - almost. Whenever he thought of the castle now, he did not remember the warm smiles he had shared with its patrons, the wonderfully big library with so many books to explore and comfortable arm chairs to while away the hours in; neither did he remember the nights on the rooftop, seeing the stars as clearly as he had never done before. No, all he remembered were hard, dark eyes that were swimming in tears, staring down at him, a mouth pressed into a tight line as if willing itself not to scream. All he felt when he remembered the castle is regret and endless, painful longing. Alfred did not dare to think about what he longed for; it was all too messy, too much that he did not understand or did not want to understand. He had never been good with feelings and avoiding them was the easiest way to deal with them.

Alfred sighed heavily and decided to go out into the streets, in hope of distracting himself from these unwilled thoughts and emotions. He quickly left the hotel, feeling like he was going to suffocate if he stayed there one more minute and relished the cold night air that cleared his head. He gazed at the people walking down the streets in thick coats, some chattering and laughing to each other, some distracted and in a hurry to get home. Alfred felt overwhelmed by the amount of people he had not expected to be around at nighttime; it was still so hard to resist the smell of blood, the pulse of a vein, but he tried his hardest for as long as he could. He had started accepting that he could not help his nature and tried to find people he thought no one would miss (and it sometimes occurred to him that he could have been a target like that once, alone in the world with no one to look for them). It was still a struggle and he often heard their screams ringing in his head or saw their terrified looks in his mind's eye, etched there for eternity. Killing would never come as easily to him as it does to other vampires; he was just too soft, too weak to be a sufficient killer.

He kept his head low, trying to stay invisible and just kept walking aimlessly through the narrow, barely lit streets of the inner city. He walked and walked, passed numerous people who all looked at him funny, as if they could sense that he was not normal, not human. Or maybe that was all in Alfred's mind. He could not determine.

He kept walking until he felt the early morning arriving, as if he had some innate sense telling him it's time to crawl into a dark corner. Alfred hurried back to the hotel, barely finding his way and found Sarah already lying fast asleep, seemingly sated from a probably successful night for her. She always arranged for them to find a hotel with basement rooms, with little or no windows that could be easily barricaded. Alfred often wondered why she dragged him along in the first place; it wasn't like she needed any help in surviving. Not further contemplating that thought, he quickly dressed into his night clothes and huddled into the little bed next to her. He never touched her; what had been such a desire for him once, now felt hollow and empty. He did not want to touch her and she did not want him to touch her. They just slept beside each other, incredibly close, even though Alfred could believe that oceans were separating them. He turned away from her, closing his eyes and almost immediately falling into a fitful sleep.

When he was still alive, he often pondered on whether vampires could dream and he had often come to the conclusion that, no, dreaming must be impossible when you're dead.

He had been wrong. Alfred dreamed every night, vividly. Most of his dreams were filled with shades of grey and black, with quick red gashes along them, terrified screams and blood running down exposed throats. He heard crying fill the empty silence of his dreams, he saw himself being bitten all over again by Sarah, smelt the copper stench of fresh blood, could see his own terrified eyes dying slowly before him. He reached out, but could not help his human self. Sarah always left him on the cold, wet forest ground, dying in agony and Alfred could feel every twitch of pain, every drop of blood leaving his body. All around him were corpses, former victims, his and Sarah's and far away he could see Herbert standing with the same look he maintained when Alfred had left. Herbert was completely still, staring at Alfred and Alfred ran, ran as fast as he could and he could feel the blood seeping out of his veins, he was dying and he just wanted to reach him, wanted to touch him and crash into his arms. Alfred screamed loudly, he screamed Herbert's name over and over and he ran and ran and ran until his feet were bleeding, but he was not moving. His human body was dying in front of him and he was dying as well; he felt the excruciating pain bursting in his chest, he felt the fear filling his head and it was getting so hard to breathe. Alfred was pleading now; he screamed „PLEASE SAVE ME", „PLEASE HELP ME", but Herbert did not seem to hear him, he did not move, did not flinch. He just stared. Alfred collapsed, chest heaving, still screaming and screaming until he could scream no more. Finally, Herbert moved. Slowly, he walked over and crouched down to face Alfred. Alfred wanted to sob in relief when he felt Herbert's cold fingers brush away the hair on his face, so gently he wanted to cling to the vampire and never let go. Herbert started bending down towards his face and he could see that his human self was already dead, but there was still hope for him, he knew there was, Herbert was here now and Herbert would save him, and the sun was coming up and he could see the flames licking at Herbert's skin but Herbert did not yell, did not scream, he seemed impervious to the pain but Alfred felt every little bit of it and his heart seemed to burst inside of his chest. Herbert was inching closer and almost his lips were on Alfred's and „yes, yes, yes" was all Alfred could think. Herbert was burning now and Alfred felt his pain as if it were him who was being consumed by the sun and he knew this was his punishment for leaving Herbert, he had condemned Herbert to death with his own foolishness and he wanted to cry and apologize but his mouth would not open. Herbert fell apart into ashes before their lips could ever meet.

Alfred awoke with a start, almost jumping out of bed. His chest was heaving with deep breaths he did not need (a human habit so hard to get rid of) and Alfred immediately burst into tears, as he always did after that dream. Whenever he used to dream of Herbert, it was in brilliant colors, as if they were both just strokes of paint moving through a timeless space. Herbert had been filled with fiery reds and cool blues, bursting with them and Alfred could feel the tranquil greens and bright yellows blossoming in his chest whenever he had laid eyes on Herbert. Whenever they looked at each other, a myriad of colors erupted between them, every touch of skin left a vibrant imprint. Alfred missed those dreams he had never understood, but that had made him feel incredibly calm and loved for some strange reason.

Tears spilled down his cheeks involuntarily; he hated his emotions getting the best of him, but he could not control the wracking sobs that went through his body. If Sarah noticed, she ignored it, but Alfred could not care less. He had never felt more lonely than in those eternal moments after awakening and he wished he could have the courage to walk into the sun and end his existence. No, he never missed the castle; he only missed the person that had made his existence bearable. Alfred felt longing pull at his insides and soon, he wasn't just crying because of his nightmare; he was also crying for the little blossom of something he had so selfishly trampled without a thought. For there had been something between him and Herbert, and while he could not determine what it had been, he knew he had destroyed something that could have made his dark world just a little bit brighter.

Alfred almost thought he could hear Herbert laughing cruelly in the distance.


End file.
